The Power of Suggestion or lack thereof
by Emono
Summary: Greg thinks he’s psychic, Grissom doesn’t, sex ensues, then a shock. Just read, it’s smut-licious. M/M, smut, slash


**Title: **The Power of Suggestion (or lack there of)

**Author:** Emono

**Rating:** FRAO

**Fandom**: CSI: Las Vegas

**Disclaimer:** Poetic licence, CSI will never be mine

**Summary:** Greg thinks he's psychic, Grissom doesn't, sex ensues, then a shock. Just read, it's smut-licious.

**Beta:** gil_follower

**Warning:** Slash, sex, psychic-ness, all around just me being smutty. Oh, and I only watched the episode once, so don't expect all details to be perfect. I couldn't remember, but I'm pretty sure it's his Olaf something...so I'm AU-ing it so that it's his Great-Grandma Olaf who's psychic, because I'm a moron and can't remember.

**Author Note:** A really telling warning: I'm getting my timelines screwed up really bad, and I know that the psychic episode probably isn't anywhere near the episode Greg gets the hell beat out of him. But I tell you, AU, my world, bite me. PS: I really tried at this lemon, so no flaming, I liked it as I wrote it.

**Tibit: **If you look closely at the end, you'll find the 'witching hour' reference. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, watch The Exorcism of Emily Rose and you'll get it ;)

**100 Challenges: **100 Prompts – Grissom/Greg**Prompt:** 97 –Magic

**Word Count: **2,947

Greg was stretched out on the couch, barely registering _Burn Notice _as it flickered on the screen. His mind was far away from the hot spy, it was on the case from earlier. A psychic had been killed in her own shop, and it had been brutal.

Greg had begged to do the case, not only because of the occult appeal, but because Grissom would be working it. It had been too long since he had worked a case with his lover, and he wasn't above begging Warrick for such a rare opportunity. But being in the shop with Grissom let him glimpse another side of him, and he had been surprised that he had visited a psychic before.

But he hadn't been lying, his Great-Grandma Olaf had been a wonderful diviner. He had dabbled in divination when he was younger, scrying and reading cards. He still had a few tarot card decks left tucked away somewhere, and he hadn't given up praying to the Goddesses. Cause there was one for everything, and how cool is that? He had always had a little knack for it, he had even seen images a few times while scrying with water.

Of course, the last time he had ever tried, he had seen his girlfriend making out with another guy and that had been enough for him for the rest of his life.

"You're thinking too hard, I can see the smoke coming out your ears."

Greg turned his head, Gil had come in from his make-shift office-at-home that had once been the dining room. He was taking off his glasses, slipping them on the table before sitting at the end of the couch.

"Just that poor woman...talent wasted..." Greg murmured, turning back to the TV.

Grissom gave the brunette a 'look', "Gregory, we talked about this. Power of suggestion, remember? It's not as if-"

"I know stuff like that is real" Greg replied curtly "My Great-Grandma was amazing with a flame, and she could cure any illness with herbs from her cabinet. I know what's real and what's not, Skully."

"You're taking _my_ beliefs too personally, _Fox_" Gil teased, reaching out and caressing the denim-clad line of the boy's calf "I have no reason to doubt your gifts, Greg. I respect every thought you have, and you know it."

The slighter man glared, "Now you're just making fun of me."

Grissom shook his head, crawling up the other till he hovered over him on his hands and knees. Sable eyes were locked on the screen, refusing to look at him. Gil knew he would soon change the boy's tune, he slid his hand up along a worn t-shirt to the lapel. He un-clasped the first four buttons, exposing a creamy slice of skin that begged to be touched and tasted. He ducked his head, mouthing moist kisses along the smooth line of collar bone and nibbling at the flesh just above it.

Greg couldn't help but give in, moaning at the attention. Grissom knew how to turn him on like nothing else, a few well-placed kisses and he was a mindless mess. He slid his hand in gray-tinged hair, urging him to continue.

"I would never mock you, sweetness" Gil whispered, one hand deftly unbuttoning the rest of the boy's dark navy shirt "It doesn't mean it's real, but-"

"Oh shut up!" Greg growled, pulling the man up into a heated kiss. It was sloppy and rushed, teeth clacking painfully and lips bruising beneath the force. The brunette's hands slipped down over the older man's rumpled day-shirt, pulling hastily at the leather belt he found there blocking his way.

"Wait, Greg" Gil tried to pull away "My shirt-"

"Fuck the shirt" Greg hissed when he finally pulled the accessory away "And fuck me instead."

Gil had never seen his lover so wanton after being so pissed just moments ago, but he grinned at the curses. He complied to the brunette's request, diving in and nibbling a full lower lip while his fingers pulled and tugged insistently at the fly of his jeans. Greg moaned lowly at the hot touch, stripping off his own shirt and tossing it away. Gil tried to pull the boy off the couch, but the lithe body curled around him and pressed close.

Greg pulled away with blown-pupils, "Here, on the couch."

Grissom had a few concerns about this, they had never had sex outside the bedroom...

"_Please_, Gil" Greg whined, pulling the older man back into a kiss while wiggling out of his jeans. All doubts Gil had flew out the window at the feel of his lover's body twisting against his own. He shoved Greg, pinning him down into the yielding surface of the cushions.

The brunette bit his lip, he knew he would be getting what he wanted. He wanted reassurance and a good fuck, and he wanted it now. A need flashed in those intense jade eyes, one a bit more desperate than he had seen before. It excited him, thrilled him to his core and made his spine tingle.

Greg's jeans disappeared, and he left naked beneath his fully clothed lover. Gil pushed his own jeans down to his knees, searching for the lube they kept beneath the cushions with his free hand. Greg snarled, wrapped his legs around the man's waist and pressing flush against him again.

"Forget the slick."

"What-?"

"I don't care" Greg moaned, rolling his hips and feeling the hot, hard shaft of his lover brush his thigh "Can't wait, Gil, just do me good..."

Gil had a brief flash of worry, but he couldn't be too concerned with his younger lover moaning and kneading the stubbled skin beneath his jaw. Then he dipped down, pushing Gil away briefly to pull his hips in. The older man groaned, sweet lips bussing his shaft before he was taken deep within that hot mouth. An agile tongue pressed against the sensitive shaft, slicking him up and coating him.

Greg pulled away with a cat grin, "Satisfied?"

"Not nearly" Gil gave his own grin, pinning the other back down with his body. He pulled those long legs up, one hooking over his shoulder and the other gripping him tight around the waist before he thrust balls-deep in his lover's ass.

Greg threw his head back and moaned, there was nothing like being filled with his lover's cock. It was like they were made for each other, his breath hitched when the head nudged that bundle of nerves deep inside him.

"_Fuck_, Gil" Greg rasped, breathing hot into the man's ear and thrusting back against him. He could take all he was given and give back just as good, he licked and bit his lover's sensitive throat.

Gil struggled to control himself, Greg's velvety, snug body took him in without preparation or protection easier than he thought it would. He thrusted cautiously, truly afraid he would hurt the his boy. But Greg only thrashed beneath him, pulling him in closer and murmuring hotly in his ear.

"Gil...oh, Gil..." Greg breathed his name like a prayer "That's it!"

It wasn't long before they both felt the impending burn of orgasm, the tension had been building between them all day. Their grips tightened on one another, hips gaining bruises, hair being clutched, and lips swollen. Gil's shirt rasped his younger lover's chest with every thrust, leaving raw skin behind.

"So close" Greg moaned, arching hard "Gil, harder..."

Gil dipped his head and bit the pale skin of his neck, "Come for me, sweetness."

Greg couldn't take anymore, his lover's voice in breathless ardor like that...and the heavy, pulsing ache in his abdomen didn't give. It seemed to merge with Gil's, giving their passion one fire and one heart pumped the lust through their veins. Emerald eyes gleamed down at him, full of such warmth and understanding...

They came hot and hard, together. Warmth slicked their stomachs, filling Greg up and claiming him. He swooned across the couch cushions, mouth open in a silent scream, white-hot fire rushing through him.

Gil bit down hard upon his lover's neck, leaving a faint impression of teeth upon the taunt skin. His orgasm ripped through him, Greg's body gripping him tight, the sweet sounds he made in climax...

Gil managed to keep his senses, peering down into his lover's face. Greg looked gorgeous after an orgasm, sweat slicking his skin, face flushed, long blonde-tinged locks wet and clinging to his pretty face, those sable eyes he loved dark and sated, swollen ruby lips parted to draw in ragged breaths...

It was enough to tempt a temple-priest.

"Love you" Greg purred, his hands smoothing over the older man's neck and shoulders. He whined when the other pulled out of him, laying half on him and resting his head against his shoulder. Silence settled over them, one of Gil's hands drifting up to fiddle with the blondish hair of his lover. Greg smiled softly, relishing the touch as bruises formed on them both.

After a few minutes, Grissom shifted and shed his shirt.

"Sorry" he murmured, eyeing the red scrapes on the boy's pale chest "My shirt was a little coarser than I thought."

"It doesn't matter" Greg stroked the near-bloody scratches he left on the man's shoulder, his touch loving though non-apologetic "It was perfect, a rough and dirty tumble after a hard case."

"Not too rough?" Gil mouthed a remorseful kiss upon the bite reddening the brunette's neck, afraid again that he had hurt his lover "I didn't hurt you, right?"

"No, it was awesome" Greg broke into a grin, shifting his hips only to wince at the ache in his ass "Yep, gonna be feeling that for days."

Gil rolled his eyes at his comment, fingers fiddling with the long tresses again.

"I'm sorry about earlier" Grissom bit his lip, the words a little difficult to get out "I...have no reason to mock something you so strongly believe in."

Greg looked back at the older man, "You were right, Gil, it's just the Power of Suggestion and all that."

"But you could claim that anything's real if one basis for believing in it is that nobody's proved it doesn't exist" Gil rattled off, fingertips dancing over the area of his lover's chest that his heart laid beneath "And I love you, and I claim that completely. And no one can prove that doesn't exist-"

Greg grasped a handful of gray-tinged hair, pulling him in and kissing him tenderly. It was slow, much more tame than their fuck before. Sweet, tongues meeting in long strokes that drew it out. When they pulled away, they were both smiling.

Greg's voice was low, "That's all I wanted."

"Me to admit I'm wrong?" Gil made a face "You know very well I wouldn't have done it for anyone else, don't you?"

"I know" Greg managed to squirm out from under the older man, snatching up his boxers and striding for the kitchen "You totally love me, you defend my beliefs, you wanna have like 10, 000 of my babies."

"There is no quoting _American Beauty _in this house!" Gil called after him, then paused in thought "...not even loose quoting!"

~*~

_Pain, all around him_..._his ribs, his face_..._his very hair being ripped out_..._monsters, on all sides, hideous yet beautiful in a grotesque way_..._blank eyes, dark face_..._he couldn't fight back, he couldn't move_..._the ground bit into his back, his skin_..._ fuck, he couldn't __**breath**_..._he reached out blindly, vision blurry_...

..._scratch, spit_...

"AH!"

Greg screamed into the still night, fighting the limbs that grasped at him. But they weren't limbs at all, he kicked and screeched his way out of their grip to find they were his blanket. He had wound himself up tight, but now he was pressed against the cool headboard. His back was slick with sweat, his face and chest as well. His hair was sticking to him in an irritating way, itching terribly. He rubbed at his face, sweeping back his hair, panting hard.

Gil stirred sleepily beside him, "Greg?"

Once he saw his lover's condition, he was wide awake and sitting up.

His brow drew, "What's wrong?"

"Monsters...oh God, it _hurts_" Greg moaned, clawing at his skin to try and get rid of the lingering pain. Every breath he took, every gasp, made the blows fade from memory "A-All around...scratch, have to scratch them..."

Gil couldn't help but be confused, "Sweetheart?"

He reached out, laying a hand on the boy's slick and clammy shoulder. Greg jerked, but didn't pull away. The touch seemed to ground him, he was looking less frightened and more confused by the second. So Gil encased his beloved in his arms, murmuring words of comfort to him.

"It was only a dream" Gil assured him lovingly, petting his hair and letting him bury his tear-streaked face in his shoulder "It doesn't matter how real, it's nothing to worry about."

"I was being surrounded, I was attacked" Greg tried to recall more of the dream, but with every caress of his lover it seemed to fade faster.

"You're safe, with me" Gil kissed the brunette's temple sweetly, letting him nuzzle closer so they were curled into one another. He would never let anyone this close, invade his personal bubble so, only Greg.

Greg kept up a broken murmuring that seemed to gain a confused tone the longer it went on, "Monsters...gotta scratch...so many...and it hurt...scratch? Gil, I don't know..."

"Rest" Gil laid the boy down, touching his face "Tomorrow will be better."

~*~

And tomorrow didn't prove much better.

Grissom was cooped up in his office, simply staring down at his folded hands. He was in a state of semi-shock, he hadn't moved for three hours. He knew this because Catherine kept popping in every hour, inquiring about him.

He just...couldn't believe it.

Catherine knocked softly before she stepped in, "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, has it been four hours?" Gil glanced at his watch, wincing at the time "I've got work to do."

When he made no move to get up, Catherine shut the door.

"I know it's a blow, having Greg attacked and semi-unconscious in the hospital" she attempted a pale smile "Not to mention the fact about his parents, poor boy. I've never seen Greg cry before."

"And you never will again, he isn't easily broken" Gil bit off defensively, then slumped into his seat and ran a hand over his eyes "Catherine...I can trust you, can't it?"

The blonde nodded, stepping up to the desk and leaning in.

"If I tell you something, and only _if_ I do" Grissom glared at her between his fingers "You have to promise not to think I'm crazy, and you can't tell Greg I told you."

She seemed wary now, "I...I promise, Gil."

"Greg had a dream early this morning, maybe around three" Grissom winced, he couldn't believe he was telling her this "He was screaming, crying even. He was so shaken up, he was nearly hysterical. He left some scratches on himself, he kept kneading at his skin to try and make some pain go away. He was babbling about monsters, and how much they were hurting him. That he was surrounded, they were attacking. And then...he...he kept insisting that he had to 'scratch them' to win...or some such thing. All I knew was that he was scratching them in his dream, but they were still killing him."

Catherine was struck dumb, hands planted firmly on the desk so she wouldn't slump.

She made a face, "Gil, if you're pulling my leg-"

"I'm not" he assured her firmly "I can't believe I'm saying this...but I think Greg _foresaw_ his attack. If it didn't fit so well, then I would never even dream it. But the gang that attacked him were wearing disguises, Halloween masks and such."

"And Greg did manage to scratch one" Catherine chewed her bottom lip "You don't think...that line about Greg's relative passing down her gift...?"

Catherine let the question hang, because Grissom took that moment to stand and walk past her. He paused at the door, hand resting limply on the knob.

"Let's just say..." Gil turned, half-concerned and half-intrigued "Greg Sanders has changed my thought process, given me more angles and hidden others. I cannot say I've had too many people who could do that. Not even Lady Heather."

Grissom left, leaving the blonde woman struggling for words.

**End**

Author's Note:

I strongly believe in condoms, all couples gay _or_ otherwise should wear them while having intercourse. If you believe you should not wear a condom while having sex, then for the love of you and any future children you may have, please have yourself and your partner checked out at your local clinic for previous STD's before you actually engage in the act. Be smart, wear a love-glove. Thank you :)


End file.
